Dancer of Gor

As the night was cloudy, and dark, I could not see the stars, or moons. I felt the collar on my throat. Ti was the collar of Ionicus, I was a work slave. Yet, tonight, I had not served as a work slave, but a pleasure slave. Too, Aulus had chained me at his stirrup. He had used me as a display slave, to enhance his appearance, to add to the effect he might make when he came into the presence of Pietro Vacchi. It is a use for slaves. I was proud that I had been put at his stirrup. In such small ways a slave may gather that she is exciting and beautiful. To be sure, he may not have wanted to leave me behind with the guards. Also, he may have had in mind that I might dance for the mercenaries and serve some of them, and their captain. Thus I might, in my humble way, like a gift, or a token of good will, make my small contribution to the success of his visit. Perhaps a tribute, or, more carefully put, a friendship fee, might even be arranged, such that the chains of Ionicus might, at least for a given time, enjoy immunity from the depredations of the mercenaries. If I had been used for such a purpose I hoped that I had done well, and that Aulus would be satisfied. I recalled Vacchi. I hoped that I had pleased him. I smiled to myself. That I had pleased him? Rather it seemed he had used me, imperiously, as a master, for his pleasure! In his arms, I, helpless, moaning, crying out, sometimes even begging for mercy, had been forced to endure lengthy slave ecstasies. I squirmed in the sand, digging into it until I again felt the bars of iron, of the pen floor, beneath me, remembering what it had been to be in his arms. Tomorrow I would presumably return to the black chain of Ionicus, though perhaps to be kept in Aulus" s tent in a rectangle of silk. Surely that was preferable to wearing chains and carrying water, struggling against its bulging, shifting weight, bend over, going back and forth, back and forth, wading in sand to the ankles.

I recalled, oddly, when I had knelt before Tyrrhenius, weeks before, when I had learned that he was going to sell me, he had spoken of "inquiries." I had not much thought of it at the time, but now, in the darkness, lying in the sand of the pen, I wondered what he had meant. What sort of inquiries had he in mind, and to whom did they pertain? Did they pertain to him? Did they pertain to me? Or perhaps he feared that they might pertain to me? Was that why he had sold me, rather abruptly, as it seemed, now that I thought about it? And who was making such inquiries? I thought that perhaps it might have been a praetor" s agent, or agents, or perhaps fellows suspected of being such agents, that might have been making such inquiries in Argentum. I did not know. News of their questioning could have been brought to Tyrrhenius by his spies, or men. Whatever might be the case, it seemed that he had regarded it judicious to terminate my services as a lure girl. I had then been sold to the black chain of Ionicus.

I dismissed such thoughts from my mind.

I lay in the darkness. I wanted to return to the work camp. There, I thought, there, behind the wire, in the midst of guards, I should be safe, or at least as safe as any of the other girls. Certainly he whose vengeance quarry I might be would not wish to simply enter the camp. He might be seized and returned to the chain. Yes, I thought, I want to get back to the work camp. If I can get back to the work camp, I should be safe, at least as safe as the other girls. That is important, I thought, to get back to the camp.